


The Bitch That Is Childbirth

by military_bluebells



Series: The Bitch That Is... [2]
Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Childbirth, F/M, Female Ray Person, Fluff, Kid Fic, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:49:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24645928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/military_bluebells/pseuds/military_bluebells
Summary: “You know what, I changed my mind, I’m not having kids.” Ray said when they were two minutes from the hospital. Brad looked across at her for a second before turning back to the road. He could feel Ray rolling her eyes. “I’m serious homes, I don’t wanna do this.”“Ray, you’re in labour, I don’t think there’s much you can do about it.” Brad replied.
Relationships: Brad Colbert/Ray Person
Series: The Bitch That Is... [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1781923
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	The Bitch That Is Childbirth

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I have not been pregnant nor have I given birth so everything in here is from general media, Youtube, and Google.

“You know what, I changed my mind, I’m not having kids.” Ray said when they were two minutes from the hospital. Brad looked across at her for a second before turning back to the road. He could feel Ray rolling her eyes. “I’m serious homes, I don’t wanna do this.” 

“Ray, you’re in labour, I don’t think there’s much you can do about it.” Brad replied. He moved his right hand - palm up - between the seats and Ray grasped it. Her hand shook in his hand, and he wished he knew how to make it stop. They pulled into a parking space outside of the hospital and Brad let go over her hand to jumped out over his door and over the hood to open Ray’s. 

“You’re so fucking dramatic.” Ray said, as if she hadn’t been rambling about how she was going to be ripped apart ‘Aliens’ style not ten minutes ago. Brad let it go however, because she could barely stand, shaking violently and too pale. 

He curled his arm around her back and under her armpit, grasped her other hand and lifted her up gently. She went to take a step but bent forward suddenly, the only sign of her pain being the white-knuckled grip his hand was in. He decided quickly to picked her up bridal style, even though he knew she was going to complain about it. She didn’t, too focused on hanging around his neck and burying her face in his neck. A lot of pain then, if she wasn’t taking the opportunity to complain vociferously. 

The ER was pretty packed for a Thursday night, but Brad managed to spot Sheree on the floor. 

“Sheree!” he called. Her red ponytail whipped to the side as she spun, and her eyes widened when she saw them. 

She rushed over, “Is she in labour?” Brad could only nod, as Sheree grabbed his arm and guided them through a set of double doors to an elevator. “The delivery room is on the second floor; has her water broken and how long has she been contracting?” 

Brad checked his watch, “Yes and one hours, fourteen minutes.” 

Sheree nodded, “How regular are her contraction?” 

“Every eight minutes now, for a minute.” 

The elevator doors slid open and Sheree guided them straight down the corridor and into room 210A. The nurse there looked wide-eyed at them, as Sheree gestured for Brad to set Ray on the bed. 

“First pregnancy, established labour, eight-minute intervals.” She told the nurse. He nodded and rushed out of the room. 

“Ray?” Brad asked, as he set her down on the bed, rubbing her lower back. Ray rose one finger and took a few deep breaths, then she lashed an arm out, punching Brad’s chest. Brad winced but kept his mouth shut. 

“Much better now.” She replied with a sharp grin. Brad rolled his eyes. 

“Ray, I need you to lie back, let’s see how far we are.” Sheree said, grabbing a pair of rubber gloves. Brad guided Ray back onto the bed carefully, keeping her hand firmly in his. 

“Right,” Sheree said after pulling Ray’s jeans and boy shorts down, “we’re at four centimetres, almost halfway there.” Brad thought the comment was supposed to be encouraging, but Ray just closed her eyes and swallowed. Brad looked up at Sheree, who was lifting a sheet off a side table and draping it over Ray’s raised knees. She nodded at him encouragingly before leaving the room. 

“Fuck,” Ray said thickly. “Halfway, half-fucking-way.” She shook her head, biting at her bottom lip. Brad fumbled for words, but they all sounded hollow and pathetic in his head. Instead he just squeezed her hand gently, rubbing his thumb over the back of it. Ray smiled weakly at him, before squeezing her eyes shut and grimacing. Brad checked his watch, eight minutes. 

When her grip subsided, Ray winced and moved to sit up, “Yeah, this isn’t doing it for me,” Brad lifted her onto her feet as the nurse from before planted a hospital gown on the end of the bed and rushed off. Ray looked at with obvious disgust, poking at it. “Great, not only do I have to push a human out of my pussy, I have to do it in a backless gown that covers less than the average hooker’s outfit.” 

Brad rose an eyebrow, “I sure you would know, since your mother dressed like that every night before she prowled the town for victims.” 

Ray laughed and shoved him, “Help me with it motherfucker, or I’ll ‘accidently’ break your fingers while I perform my very best Wilhelm scream.” 

“I highly doubt you'd be able to break my fingers with anything less than 4x4.” 

“You know I might just do it to affront your warrior spirit.” Brad grinned and held up the gown. Ray huffed but kicked off her jeans and boy shorts and started slipping her flannel shirt off anyway. Brad helped get her t-shirt off and tied the gown’s ties behind her neck and at the centre of her back. 

“This is you’re fault you know,” Ray said conversationally as she sat on the edge of the bed, kicking her dangling legs . 

“So I’ve been told, multiple times.” 

“Doesn’t make me wrong homes.” She was still pale, and her hand rubbed her bump almost obsessively. Brad hummed, taking in the non-verbal cues. He sat beside her, turning to put one leg on the bed. Ray leant against his chest and nuzzled against the side of his neck. She’d been swinging between emotions lately, mostly between threatening to castrate him and attaching herself to him like a limpet. He pressed his hand to small of her back and rubbed firmly but carefully. 

Ray sighed, “Okay maybe you’re making it up for it, but don’t think I’ll let you off easily, no matter how _good_ your hands are.” Brad grinned into Ray’s hair, and slowly ground the ball of his hand next to her spine. Ray mewled, arching her back. “ _Fuck me._ ” 

“Not for the next six weeks, unless you want that hole you call a vagina to become the breeding ground for every infection currently known to medical science.” Ray leant back and opened her mouth to answer but her mouth clicked shut suddenly; her whole body tensed against him and she grimaced. “Where?” Brad asked quietly. 

“Back.” Ray said through gritted teeth. Brad moved to sit behind her so he could massage her lower back with more force. The contraction subsided a short time after and Ray decided she needed to pace to hallways of the floor like she hadn’t been sleeping less than he usually did during deployment. He followed her anyway as she paced for almost two hours, for various reasons. Her balance had degraded the further along she’d gotten, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if she ended up giving birth on a hallway floor because she didn’t realise the baby was ‘coming’. 

He checked his watch at eleven as Ray dosed, her head in his lap; she’d been in labour for three hours and twenty-two minutes now. 

“How’s she doing?” Sheree asked quietly, stepping into the room with a clipboard. 

“I wouldn’t know, but she’s been as annoying as usual, though her sentences have loss their rambling structure to be replaced with short, sarcasm-filled comments.” 

Sheree laughed into her hand as she pulled her stethoscope from her head. She pressed the end to Ray’s stomach and Brad stroked his hand over Ray's hair as Sheree moved between places with a blank expression. “Baby seems relax, not signs of stress.” Sheree said as she pulled back, “Sorry, I know she hasn’t had a lot of sleep, but I need to check her dilation.” 

“I doubt she’d notice.” 

Sheree chuckled, but nodded her head, “I’ll take your words for it.” She looked under Ray’s gown and must have felt around as Ray stirred, her head rubbing against his thigh. 

“Brad, if that’s you, I’m going to snap your fingers off.” Sheree laughed as Brad flicked Ray’s temple; Ray respond by pinching his inner thigh, painfully. 

“It’s only me, you’re at about eight centimetres now, about another two or three hours and you’ll be ready.” 

“Like a microwave meal.” Ray said dryly. Brad grinned down at her, smoothing his thumb along her hairline. 

“It’ll be a lovely microwave meal.” Sheree said cheerfully as she left the room. 

“I swear, I don’t know which one is more sickeningly positive, her or Rudy.” 

“Both are diabetes-inducing either way. I’m glad they haven’t procreated, their child would probably be even worse.” 

Ray snorted, tilting her head back, “Can you imagine what this one’s going to be like, with your OCD and emotional constipation and my brains and general recklessness?” 

“I’m confident that whatever combination they are, they will cause a level of chaos that even General Mattis will consider excessive.” 

Ray laughed brightly, her dimples popping out, “You shouldn’t be so fucking happy about that Brad, we’re going to have to train them.” 

Brad continue to grin as he explained, “That’s the best part, they will be _effective_ chaos.” 

Ray shook her head, “This is why I’m the one with a college degree not you, you can’t have effective chaos!” 

Brad opened his mouth to argue, when Ray gasped, and her face contorted in pain. Brad quickly slipped his free hand into Ray’s; her grip was probably cut off blood to his fingers, but he was more bothered by Ray holding her breath. 

“Breathe Ray.” He said firmly, tapping her cheek with his other thumb. Ray opened her eyes and breathed out in a gush of air. Her breaths were stilted, and her eyes widened further with clear fear. Brad swallowed thickly and squeezed her hand, pressing his thumb under her ear to thread his fingers into her hair. The contraction lasted longer than Brad'd wanted, and when it ended Ray was gasping for air, tears welling in her eyes. 

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.” She said, as she rubbed at her eyes. 

“Well, an alien hasn’t ripped your stomach open and splayed your intestine on the ceiling and walls, so I think you’re doing alright.” Ray laughed, a little too brokenly. Brad thumbed her chin, staring at her eyes. She smiled tiredly after a few minutes, closing her eyes and resting her head on his hand. She dosed until her next contraction: much the same, if not more painful. After the third one, Brad pressed the red nurses’ button. 

“Yes?” the nurse asked, stepping into the room as Ray panted, sweat beginning to make her face shine under the hospital lighting. 

“She’s in a lot of pain, more than she was in half an hour ago.” 

“Oh, well I'll take a look,” the nurse said, pulling on a pair of gloves. Ray was still panting when the nurse finished and explained that everything looked normal and offered an epidural for the pain. 

“Fuck yes,” was Ray’s response. The nurse returned with Sheree and after Sheree checked with Ray that she did want an epidural, which she did – in the time between Ray had had another contraction, which made her sob in pain. 

“I thought she would,” Sheree explained as the nurse inserted a drip into her arm, “I talked to her mother, and both she and her grandma had had painful births, and while that isn’t always genetic, it is common.” Sheree and an anaesthetic rolled Ray onto her side and numbed the area around her lower back. Brad kept one of her hands in between his as the anaesthetic inserted a needle with a tube connect to a cocktail of opioids and local anaesthetic if his google search was to be believed. 

Ray sighed, fifteen minutes later as the drugs kicked in. She fell asleep not long after, since the drug suppressed most of the pain. Brad kept her hand firmly in his as he relaxed into the chair next to her. 

He had the feeling that he should rest now to be combat effective later. 

He was woken around twenty-five minutes later as Ray squeezed his hand like a vice. Her face was twisted, but she was clearly still asleep. He swept a hand over the back of her head and relaxed as her grip slackened. She woke anyway, looking up with bleary, tired eyes. 

“How’s the pain?” 

“Non-existent really, I just feel really fucking tired. What time we on?” 

“4 hours, 7 minutes and 38 seconds.” 

Ray laughed, “You’re such a fucking nerd, you totally started that stopwatch on your fancy, tech-porn-worthy-watch, didn’t you?” 

“I thought it would be of use.” Brad said defensively. It drew out another laugh out of Ray – Brad smiled to himself – until Sheree appeared by the doorway. 

“Shit, is it time for you to finger me already?” Ray said with a grin, though her exhaustion was easy to see. 

Sheree giggled and pulled on a rubber glove, “I’m afraid so.” Brad squeezed Ray’s hand as he watched Sheree’s hand disappear from view. Her eyes widened and she drew back with a smile, “It looks like your ready, have you felt the need to push yet?” 

“Honestly Doc, I can’t feel much below my belly button.” 

Sheree nodded, walking around the bed to fiddle with Ray’s epidural. Brad narrowed his eyes as Sheree turned but she explained to Ray before he could ask, “I’ve dialled the pain relief down so you can feel the urge to push but hopefully enough that you won’t feel the worse of the contraction pain.” 

“Right,” Ray said through clenched teeth. 

Things started to pick up from there. Another nurse appeared with foot stirrups which Sheree got Ray to brace her feet against, and her bed was risen so that she could sit up more. Brad moved to her side, keeping her hand in his as more nurses filtered in and out. He adjusted her blanket as she breathed through her teeth. Her grip was tight now, tighter than his dress shoes. He pressed his lips to her temple as she breathed out in a rush. 

Sheree reappeared with another nurse and looked under the blanket, “I think we’re ready to go. Ray?” 

“More than willing to get this fucking over with.” Brad smiled into her hair. 

“Okay then, I want you to push while you breath out okay, for ten second.” 

Ray sucked in a breath and then closed her eyes and gripping Brad’s hand like a vice. He assumed she was pushing as Sheree encouraged her. He mentally counted the ten seconds then Ray was gasping before squeezing his hand harder, her eyes clenched shut. He felt the bones in his hand squeezing together and a burst of pain ran down the back of his hand as Ray let go for a second as she gulped in another breath before the squeezing returned. It was easy to push the pain away as he watched Ray’s face contort, one tear sliding down her face. 

“We’ve got the head! Just a little more.” 

Ray huffed, swearing under her breath. Brad cracked a smile which Ray reflected for a second before her eyes closed again and her grip tightened. His hand radiated pain as she squeezed twice more before there was the sound of a baby crying. Ray gasped, slumming back into the bed, her eyes not leaving the nurse who scooped the baby up after dealing with the umbilical cord. 

“Holy shit,” Ray breathed, laughed bubbling out of her breath. 

“Holy shit.” Brad echoed, reaching out to brush some of her hair out of the way with his uninjured hand. 

“Here you go, it’s a little boy.” Sheree said, helping Ray move her gown down to lay the baby on her bare chest. The baby settled down as Ray held it close. 

“A boy huh, well shit.” Ray said with awe. 

“Language, Ray.” Brad said absently, smoothing his hand over the baby’s head. There was a slight tuff of light blond hair, almost indistinguishable from its skin. Ray huffed a laugh, tilting her head away from the baby to roll her eyes at Brad. 

“I don’t think he cares Brad.” The baby huffed and squirmed a little against Ray’s chest. 

“See if he needs a feed.” Sheree said, as she wiped down the end of the bed. 

“He’s just got out!” 

“He probably has your appetite.” Brad quipped as Ray guided the baby’s head towards one of her nipples. The baby latched on immediately and started suckling. Brad rubbed it’s back a little, moving the blanket up higher to cover it and Ray. 

Ray stared at his hand before blurting, “What the fuck happened to your hand?” Brad opened his mouth to chastise her – his mother wouldn’t forgive him if her grandchild’s first words were fuck or shit – before looking down at his hand. It had already begun to bruise a sickly green and purple. 

“You broke my hand.” 

Ray let out a bark of laughter – the baby grumbled before returning to its postpartum meal – and said, laughing her way through, “I told you I could, I told you, didn’t I?” 

Brad rolled his eyes, “I’m aware, you don’t have to repeat yourself like a broken, over-used porn cassette that you had to use in your backwater, luddite trailer park.” 

Ray looked down at the hand he’d covered the baby’s ears with, obviously yearning to make a comment when Sheree saw his hand and said with concern, “I think you should get that seen to, hand injuries can be quite complicated.” 

“Not until he holds his son.” Ray said, looking straight at Brad with her doe brown eyes, her gaze firm. 

Brad smiled as softly as he could, “and makes sure its name isn’t something red state, whiskey tango worthy like Johanna Ray.” Ray chuckled; her attention grasped by the baby that'd finished its meal and was looking around with unfocused, blue eyes. Brad had read that a new-born’s eye colour often changed in the first few months; he hoped they darkened to a shade of brown. 

“Get over here Bradley.” Ray said, gently peeling the baby from her chest. Brad reached out and quickly moved it from her arm to his chest so there was little opportunity to drop him. 

“We’ll have to get you shirtless next time, it promotes bonding.” Ray smirked at him as Sheree chimed from where she was writing something on a clipboard. 

“What are we going to call him then, since anything I’ll come up with will be too ‘whiskey tango’ for you?” 

“Alexander?” 

Ray snorted, “Of course you’d pick a name meaning warrior. Jacob? Biblical, your mum would like that.” 

“Hunter.” Brad said with a grin. 

Ray laughed, “Now you’re not even being subtle. Benjamin?” 

Brad hummed, as the baby – his son – wiggled in his arm, his blue eyes staring up at him. Brad knew he probably couldn’t see him yet, a new-born’s sight only extended up to fifteen inches and he was much taller than Ray. 

“Brad?” 

“Benjamin Colbert, not too whiskey tango, and in the Torah, which I’m sure my mother won’t care about when she sees him.” He decided that Ben’s nose was probably Ray’s though his ear were definitely Brad’s. 

“Benjamin.” Ray said, mostly to herself. “Guess we’ll have to distribute picture to keep your marine knitting circle happy, with his permission of course.” Benjamin giggled, blowing little bubbles of spit onto Brad’s t-shirt. 

They took that as a yes.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt credit: https://inhibitme.tumblr.com/post/161369266510/random-prompt-starters  
> “You know what I changed my mind I’m not having kids.”


End file.
